“Will the chief tell me what he pleases about
him?” said the young man, whose ingenuous nature
revolted at any attempt by insidious questions to
extract from the savage a knowledge which he desired
to conceal. It appeared unworthy of himself,
and a wrong to both his friends. “I know
little of Soog-u-gest, and would like to learn more.”

The fine, bold face of the Indian looked pleased at
the frankness of Arundel, and, it is probable, that
he was more communicative than if he had been adroitly
questioned. His native subtlety might then have
taken alarm, and cunning been met by cunning.
But Sassacus felt no desire, on his own account, for
concealment. The two young men had been strongly
attached to each other from the first, and on the side
of the Indian, at least, was springing up a friendship
for the other, more like that which Plato celebrates
among the Greeks, or Cicero dilates upon, than the
feeling of modern times.

“Listen, my brother,” said the chief.
“It is more than six moons since Soog-u-gest
came into the woods. Sassacus was laughing when
he said that six moons only had lighted the path betwixt
him and Soog-u-gest, but he is not laughing now.
The white chief built his wigwam in the woods because
he loves the Indians and the sound of their language,
and Sassacus loves him for that reason, and because
he has sat in the lodge on the pleasant bank of the
Pequot river, and ate venison with Sassacus from the
same fire. All Indians love to hear him tell how
great and happy they might be. He knows more of
the tribes than any other white man, and has been
far toward the setting sun, even beyond the country
of the Maquas. Soog-u-gest is very wise, and his
eyes pierce far into the darkness. And now let
my brother bend down his head, so that not one of
my words may be lost. Soog-u-gest has promised
to teach the Indians to become wise and powerful like
the white men. Perhaps now that my brother knows
that, he will help.”

“But Governor Winthrop and the ministers will
teach all that can be taught you, and so will all
the English.”

“My brother is mistaken,” said Sassacus,
earnestly. “Sachem Winthrop’s men
are jealous of their great Manito, and do not wish
to teach the Indians how to talk with him, lest he
should like us better than themselves. Now, we
want to know how to talk with the Manito who instructed
them in so many things. If they are good for Owanux,
they may be good for us too.”

“Certain am I, Sassacus,” said Arundel,
“nothing would delight the noble heart of the
Governor more than to have you Christians.”

“Sassacus wishes not to be a Christian.
He was born an Indian, and will live and die true
to the traditions of his race. Christian is good
for Owanux, but is very bad for the red men. The
beavers build dams in the streams, while the eagle
flies among the clouds. The English are beavers,
but Sassacus is an eagle.”